Wildheart
by yuuva
Summary: This is the story of Fran the Viera and what happens 10 years after the events of Final Fantasy XII. It is her journey out of her home once again, and into the heart of Ivalice, to learn what this life has to offer; to find the truth of her past and her father, and to find where her heart truly lies.


Fran awoke to the soft, gentle melody of the various songbirds perched high up in the unmovable, giant wooded trees that made up Eruyt Village. With the amount of trees in the forest, and the thickness of the canopy overhead, a small amount of sunlight broke through parts of the ceiling, giving her homeland a dim, but soothing and ambient glow.

She took a deep breath and peeled back her woven cloth blanket that was cozily piled up on top of her, warm from body heat, and sat up on her knees. She slept everynight in the same sleeping den, a hollowed out, shallow cave high on the side of a mountain that made part of its home within the Eruyt Village. Fran's bed consisted of a pile of down feathers stuffed inside a large sack, with various soft pelts of felled beasts on top. She always slept in the very back corner of the cave; it made her feel safe for some unknown reason. Looking around, she saw that almost all the other Viera were already up and out of their beds, save for a few lazy ones still curled up in a ball under their respective blankets. She looked over to the entrance, where the hanging door made of bamboo stalks woven together was gently swaying in the morning breeze, letting faint glimmers of light shine through the cracks. "It's best I get on with my day," She thought to herself, reluctantly pushing herself up to her feet and stretching a few times like a cat.

Viera were tall creatures, almost always taller than a hume male if they were side by side. The Viera were a forest dwelling race, having dark amber-brown skin that was fair and smooth, with always pure white, voluminous hair and more often than not, wine red eyes. They were part beast, and as such, had sharp black claw-toenails and fingernails, and had a feral, wild spirit. Their most recognizable feature, though, was the two rabbit-like ears that every Viera had on their head, which stood straight up and were usually white with a darkened tip. They lived in complete seclusion and isolation from the rest of Ivalice, and in almost every village, were entirely made up of females. What became of the male Viera was unknown to Fran, as well as most anyone else she might ask. Her body was supple and sleek, with powerful muscles hidden from sight in her long legs and wide hip base. The viera female had chest development as well, though not as extreme as the hume females. This was no matter to Fran; it only meant more agility and unhindered movement for her.

Fran bent down to her pile of clothing beside her bed and grabbed her undergarments and put them on, then an armor plated bikini bottom and top, and finally, her signature half-shell headband helm, which covered most of the top of her head and came down the sides of her face, curving finally towards her nose and ending under her eyes. For the Spring, Summer, and most of Autumn, her people almost always preferred as little clothing as possible like this. If some Viera had their way, they would go completely in the nude, free to live in nature as a natural creature without the burden of consciousness of their bodies. But the rest of Ivalice did not share their sentiments and wild nature, so they had to compromise.

With a round face and full, red eyes under curved eyelashes, and eyebrows that curved gracefully upward to give her a serious but curious look, Fran was what most humes would call beautiful. She had a long, slender neck, small but slightly curved upward nose, and plump lips. When she spoke, which was rarely, her voice was like a soft bundle of heather brushing against sand on the beach, like a wispy, mist singing a song, carefully and sweetly. When with others, she might have seemed withdrawn or indifferent, but Fran had her own way of caring for the ones she loved. Whereas the Humes were more attuned to their emotions and desires, the Viera were more attuned to their inner purposes and true selves, and connection to the lifeforms of the forest and, indeed, any wild place of nature, lending more weight to their perception of introvertedness.

Fran quietly slipped out between the bamboo door, careful not to wake her other sisters, and stood barefooted on the top wooden plank in front of the cave. Staring out into the rest of Eruyt Village, she was filled with a deep and calming inner peace she always felt when she was here, in the heart of the forest. Eruyt Village itself was built nestled in a magical part of a forest-jungle called Golmore. The village consisted entirely of wooden huts and plazas, villas and platforms all built far above ground, connected to, spiraling around, above and through all of the giant trees, and with wooden walkways and boardwalks between them all. Any outsider, or non-Viera, would never be able to access Eruyt on his own. The path to the village was guarded by ancient forest magic far older than the Viera race, and the only way to gain access to the path was with a sort of magic called the Green Way, exclusive to the Viera, where it was taught and passed down the family generations. Fran knew a little of the Green Way, mainly how to make clear the path into the village on her own, and how to sense the innate vagaries of magic energy residing around hidden and unseen entities, as well as in the mists that would gather, but there was far much more knowledge she did not possess, and being considered a younger Viera than most others, the ancient knowledge had not been passed down to her yet. But her day would come soon...

It had been over ten years since Fran last parted ways with her old adventuring companions. After the fall of Vayne, the corrupted leader of modern Ivalice at the hands of her and her friends, the country began it's healing process. Soon, rife corruption left the provinces, petty wars were quelled, and an uncertain but welcome peace fell over the land. Vaan was a petty street thief-turned brave fighter who was always with the old group Fran had followed for so long. He was such a young Hume, with a skinny but muscular body, shaggy blonde hair, and still in his teens, when he and his childhood friend Penelo had decided to join the party and fight. Penelo was a sweet girl with innocent, naive eyes who always looked after Vaan, almost as a mother sometimes, even though he was older.

She was a dancer and had blonde pigtails behind each ear that fell down her shoulders, but she was no slouch on the battlefield. He and Penelo were both naive at the start, but over time, they both had learned much about what it meant to stand up for a cause, and stand strong another day with a smile on your face, when so much evil was descending down around you. Another companion was the ever-faithful Basch. A gruff, stern man in his thirties with a face full of blonde facial scruff and various scars, Basch, who was wrongfully accused of high treason murder, escaped jail with the help of the party, serving as the strong backbone of the missions. He was always brave and headstrong, never faltering in his determination. Fran flickered a smile across her face, thinking she would like to possess such determination oneday.

Fran slowly walked her way down the wooden boardwalk, it's sides covered in hanging ivy and blooming vine flowers, from the sleeping den to the main gazebo. She looked into the distance, faintly focusing on a flock of silent white birds flying by, her memories drifting by with them. There was also the Lady Ashelia, or Ashe as they all called her. Standing on strong legs, Ashe gracefully commanded respect as a leader wherever she went. She had short Hazel hair that framed a pale face; a face that had endured the death of her husband-to-be. It had been so long since his name was mentioned, that Fran could not even recall it. His benevolent, silent ghost would sometimes appear and help them through something, though, she remembered, and everytime she would look at Ashe and wonder how such a hume could be so strong without breaking down, and still lead the band of six onward with poise. Ashe was a rogue princess displaced from her position by a myriad of circumstances, not the least of which was her own death that was faked by those in high places. Her determination to regain her rightful title and place was the driving force, the mission that the whole party fought so valiantly to achieve. Fran admired her courage and exactingness in a world full of men who primarily held the power and made the decisions.

Continuing down the boardwalk, Fran let her hand gracefully brush over flowers on the rails; each time she grazed one, she felt the deep, inner connection to the plant. She could feel it's faint but pulsing lifeforce, and it's place within the entirety of the forest. She had lost her connection to the forest when she left it so long ago, and was told she could never feel the Green Way again. After coming back, though, and living in it's bosom for years, she slowly but surely regained her old senses and understood the forest once more. Her memories came back to her faster now, and she stopped walking abruptly. She had remembered Balthier...Her rabbit ear twitched a few times.

Balthier was a smooth, ladies-man. Always at the bar, with some unknown concoction of drink in his hand, he was the suave life of the party. For a long time before even the party of six were on their mission, it was just her and Balthier... A long time ago, Fran had made the biggest decision of her life; to leave the village and her clan; to live with the humes and learn their ways. This, of course, was the antithesis of the Viera way of life. But so was denying the wishes of a sister in the village. They let her leave her home in the forest, but with her departure, a sort of quiet shunning had followed her, especially for the older Viera, who viewed Fran as an outsider once she decided to live alongside the Humes. This was a deep and painful scar that Fran had to live with ever since she stepped foot outside of the Golmore Jungle, but it was one she made in confidence, and had to constantly remind herself to remain committed.

Back then, when she was younger and lost in the world, she had no direction or plan. She just knew she wanted to live with the Humes, learn their ways of love and war, of forgiveness and tradition-breaking innovation, and live a full life, although she still kept the forest and her home inside her heart. She had inexplicably wandered across the lands, marvelling at every new location with it's diverse and exotic creatures, and sometimes populaces of inhabitants; every day was different, new, and exciting; but everytime she came across a small village of people, there was one consistency: that is, there were virtually no viera in sight. She was all alone, truly, with nothing but her dream. Her wandering eventually led her south, to the grand town of Rabanastre. A giant mecha full of bazaars, shops, and towering buildings housing the rich and politicans, with the petty merchants and middle class on the street level, and finally the poor, underbelly of the city living underground in a sewer-like canal maze referred to as Lowtown. Rabanastre itself was bordered by an orange desert full of fauna and plants referred to as the Eastersands (or Westersands, depending on what exit you took out of the city). The warm, tropical climate made Rabanastre a popular place for caravans, tourists, and all manner of things that gave the city a bustling life.

The city was just what she had hoped for, and she found a sort of acceptance there that her old home could not afford her anymore. She even had met another Viera there, whom she befriended and got to know. But her real first companion was met in the local tavern one night. She had been sitting in a shadowey corner there, casually observing the antics of half-drunken humes and all other manner of races, when the sound of a glass being set down on her oaken table abruptly snapped her back to reality. Looking up, she saw a tall and slender hume with black leather pants, an elegant and fancy vest and shirt, and a dashing smile full of charisma. "What's a forest flower like you sitting all alone here doing? Oh no, that won't do at all~" The man said, inviting himself into a chair beside Fran.

The Viera looked up at him, astonished, for most everyone almost always avoided conversing with her. "I'm watching the ways of the people," She said, returning her gaze to a group at the front of the bar, making a loud raucous and singing a half-intelligible song.

"People-watching, eh?," he said, following her gaze and sipping some of his rummed drink. When she did not reply, but kept staring away, he cast a glance at his drink then back at her. "I'm very terribly sorry, I forgot to introduce myself," he announced, making a partial bow in his seated position. "I'm Balthier, the very best sky pirate, and all around treasure-hunter!" This caught Fran's attention; now she looked into his eyes.

"Sky...pirate? Treasure? What are these things you speak of, sir Balthier?" Fran inquired, slightly tilting her head, making a thick white tendril of hair slide off of her shoulder. He found her beauty in the dark tavern illuminated by the candles and lanterns all around quite intoxicating. After a few seconds of thinking, he replied, Well, if you really want to know, wallflower, I can just as best show you," Balthier added, sipping his drink while keeping his eyes on the dazzling Viera. And the rest was history...

Fran had joined up with Balthier and accompanied him on many more excursions and trips to abandoned ruins, wealthy country estates full of corrupted politicians who needed a good stealing, and any manner of burial sites, shrines, and dungeons, to get his hands on anything that would rake in heaps of gold on the market. All of this treasure hunting and pirating is what funded his other passion, being captian of his own airship, along with it's own maintenance crew of moogles, small furry, mousey creatures that could half-fly and had a penchant for fixing things. With his ship, he and Fran traveled all over the young Ivalice, seeking out the next quest. Oneday it all changed, when they had ran into Ashe and her party. Balthier and Fran had debated intensely about their next move, and eventually Balthier decided to put his skills to noble use for once, and help out the fallen princess Ashe on her mission to restore her rightful throne.

Fran, finally making it to the central gazebo in Eruyt Village, sat down on a bench beside her sister Mjrn, who greeted her happily and laid her head on Fran's shoulder. Mjrn was the closest person to Fran, and she would do anything for her. She was hurt inside when Fran had decided to leave all those years ago to strike out on her own, but she understood that once a Viera gets a plan inside themselves, there is no use to try and derail it, or persuade them otherwise. It was unwise to try and dictate the heart of another Viera, in other words. But, much to Fran's amazement, Mjrn left the village to live with Fran in Rabanastre, out of deep love for her Viera sister. It was hard going through the same shunning she had recieved, but Fran was a constant shoulder to lean on and learn from, just like she was doing now. Mjrn sensed something tense in Fran's posture and face, and looked up at her sister. "Fran, what are you thinking about...?" She asked, faintly concerned. "Him..." She replied, gazing out into the warm sunlight.

It had happened gradually over their adventuring together, and came to a close shortly after Ashe's mission was done and everybody parted ways. Balthier had started trying to pursue Fran in a romantic and sexual way, much to her dismay. Fran cared deeply for Balthier, her first true companion outside of her village, but she harbored no romantic or physical notions for him whatsoever. He was her adventuring partner, and he just so happened to be a male that noticed her in more ways than one. When she rejected his advances, she was dismayed, and he heartbroken. For a while he would not speak to her, then once or twice he would try again, yet his efforts were always in vain, for Fran did not desire to let him in her heart. As far as she knew, Viera didn't mate anymore, for they were near immortal from the forest. Fran herself was one hundred and eighty three years old, but was still considered a 'younger' one of her clan, and had the appearance of a hume in their late twenties, all due to the vital and rich lifeforce of the forest and its energy. There was also the mystery of where all the male Viera went, and how her clan came to be. All of this would be answered in time by her elders if she ever returned, she knew, but she still was left in the dark until then.

After being rejected by her, Balthier turned his attention to her sister Mjrn, who had gone with them on a few quests before, but was usually always out of the spotlight. His desparate desire for the love and embrace of a Viera led to him wrecklessly throwing himself at Mjrn, with no success at all. She rejected him in the same manner as her sister, and became disillusioned with the ways of the hume man. Balthier had slowly plunged into a world of depression, fueled by drinking and sullen laziness; neglect of his airship and companion Fran, and the rest of Rabanastre. This sadness eventually led to anger, and he altogether avoided Fran for a long time. His behavior and pursuing of her sister made Fran feel hurt inside. She didn't know what to do, so she let him go his own way. After a while, Balthier came back to Fran, although only to apologize for his actions. But there was something different in his eyes. A colder stare; one that clung to the long-lost possibilities of what 'could have been'. He still talked the same way, but with much less effort for smoothness and being gentleman-ly to her. Fran afforded him the same manners, and from then on, they only spoke every now and then when they'd inexplicably run into eachother in the odd tavern or guild, and even then, the conversations were quick and to the point; not as enemies, but not as close friends like they used to be either. it was more of an annoyed acquaintance, and it lasted all the way until the day she and Mjrn decided to go back to Eruyt Village...

Mjrn picked up Fran's hand and started grooming the black nails gently, a common practice between the Viera sisters when no outsider's eyes were watching.

"Fran, that is all in the past, sister. Balthier is no longer in our lives. Unrequited love is a terrible thing, but so is dwelling on old scars, sister," Mjrn said, soothingly, placing her hand over Fran's for a moment, then continuing her grooming.

"Yes, you are right..." Fran replied dreamily, slowly breaking her gaze from the distance to look at her sister, tears barely welling in her eyes. She wiped the tears off with her other free hand, then out of habit, ran her fingers through the long tassels of white hair that hung off the sides of her face and cascaded down her chest. "I just hope oneday I can make amends with that stubborn Hume," She added, with a weak laugh.

"Perhaps oneday, sister..."


End file.
